Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse

A soft breeze picked up around them, and Naomi glanced at the gathering crowd.

Some of the civilians had grown restless, whispering anxiously. Others still stood frozen, watching the gate like it was a window into a nightmare they didn't understand.

Elias sighed, rubbing his neck as if the weight of the situation had physically settled there. "You're right. We'll hold out a little longer. But... if they don't come back soon, we'll have to initiate contingency measures. We've already lost too many… I got info that a member of the White Comets, Alister Hazenworth, has a dragon that can close these gates."

Naomi's eyes softened. She understood the necessity of it, but it still felt like betrayal.

"I won't give up on them," she said firmly. "Not while Arden's in there."

Elias gave a resigned nod. "I just hope you're right. We don't have much more time."

The words hung in the air. Time was running out. And if Arden and his team didn't come back soon, the portal—the gate—would claim more than just the lives of those who entered.

It would tear the city apart.

…

…

It had been five bloody days in the dungeon for Arden and his team.

After fighting for what felt like forever in that strange blood swamp, they had arrived at a valley that was completely shrouded in red mist… the one here seemed far thicker than what they had been inhaling through their masks so far.

At least that one was a bit see-through; instead, this was just thick, dark red—like blood given gaseous form.

And in all this red mist was what appeared to be the layout of an old, run-down medieval city in the distance, and on the horizon, a strange, unsettling black hole with a bright, glowing crimson outline, serving as the only—yet disturbing—source of light in this abnormal space.

Draven, who had been secretly following them, had learned several things.

One, this space, wherever it was, wasn't a dungeon, nor was it some sort of pocket dimension either.

It was an actual world, a dead planet. He had been able to personally confirm that with a little exploration—well, not too far, so he wouldn't lose sight of the humans.

Second, all the strange creatures here had a crest of sorts, though nothing similar to that of dragons. It was distinct, different, and didn't exist to amplify one's abilities.

The specifics were unclear, but he was able to deduce that they allowed them to be controlled by some entity, something or someone.

Third, time here was accelerating, or at least being accelerated. While the concept of one being able to tell whether or not their time was being pushed past that of relative progression speed was difficult to pinpoint, he was able to tell because of his connection to his lord, Alister.

That innate ability of feeling his lord's presence and trying to establish a connection with him had made it clear that Alister was experiencing time far slower than he was.

It was unclear what was behind this or what the goal of making this ruined planet, overrun with mutated humans, experience time at a faster rate hoped to achieve, but if he were to guess, it would be—

Evolution.

The being responsible for all this wanted these creatures of this world to grow and improve, but what they planned to do with such a force was unclear.

Besides all of that, he had also come to learn that the strange system present on Earth regarded this as a dungeon outside of its framework… whatever that was.

But the phrase also suggested that this place wasn't part of the typical structure, a system designed to categorize and control realms, dungeons, and other dimensions.

This could mean that whatever force controlled this world had somehow bypassed or even corrupted the system, making it unpredictable and more dangerous.

It was as if the rules were being rewritten, and Draven had no idea what the consequences of that might be.

But it made it clear what could have pulled this off.

A Celestial.

Not a god, beings like them needed substance by having followers who worshiped them, so to completely rid a world of intelligent life would not be something a god would do.

But the celestials were dead.

The Dragon god had killed the very last one, his very creator.

So it all made a lot of sense, yet no sense at all.

Well that was basically it, but he still had to follow his lord's orders to follow the humans, so he was still here.

Arden's team was battered and weary. Luckily, hardly any damage had been done to their equipment—they wouldn't even still be alive if that were the case—but the fact that remains now was that… they were starving, worn out, and nearly completely out of mana.

But as much as they would give anything for a nice soft bed and a hot cup of coffee, one couldn't leave a dungeon unless they had cleared it.

"Are we really going to head down there?" one of the men in the team, Warner, an Iron elementalist with his messy black hair and gray eyes, couldn't help but stare skeptically.

He had seen all sorts of horrors whenever he followed Arden outside the city walls for major clearing missions, but nothing quite like this.

It was already bad enough that this place hadn't even given them a single chance to rest in all this time, but to head down into some sort of ruined city to search for a boss monster—when their vision would most likely be completely impaired—wasn't exactly an appealing set of conditions, nor was it logical.

But what choice did they have?

"You make it sound like we have other options," Jarek said in an exasperated tone as he crouched, to the floor, an attempt to rest his sore shoulders due to the few times he had to use his fists inside of his flames, sometimes both.

He let out a long breath and rubbed the back of his neck, sweat sticking to his skin beneath the armor.

"We've got two choices," Arden said, stepping forward. His boots crunched against brittle, dry earth—if it even was earth. The ground here felt strange, almost hollow. "We push forward, or we sit here and wait to die."